A Cookie for Your Troubles
by Single.Voice
Summary: [complete] 'She said he brought out a side of her that she never even knew she had, and she wanted to thank him for that.' Just because something is inevitable doesn't mean it's easy. ZekeSharpay.


_a cookie for your troubles_

--

--

It wasn't going to work.

Somewhere in his lovesick heart, she was sure he knew that, and perhaps she knew that all along. The best things never lasted. She shut her eyes and sang softly to herself, some lines from some cheesy love song that she'd heard yesterday on the radio. She'd sing it for him later, if she remembered. She didn't want to do it, she didn't want to end one of the best things that had ever happened to her, but prolonging something that shouldn't be would only make it worse when it did come crashing to a stop.

Sharpay picked up her phone, the rhinestone-studded Sidekick that she carried around everywhere so that people would think she was too busy to hear their crude remarks and cutting insults. She had his number on speed dial, but she dialed the number from heart anyway, because she knew it would probably be one of the last times she'd have the chance to do so.

He picked up on the second ring. (He must have known something was off, because she almost never called him first unless she was returning a call.)

She rumbled in her mind for something to say, something that wasn't so cliché like _we need to talk_ because they were anything but cliché. She told him that there were some things that needed to be said, and then winced afterwards because that was really just a slight variation of the cliché breakup phrase.

He said okay (though he said it slowly, dragging out the word as long as possible as if to prolong the moment) before asking her if she wanted to come over; the house was empty, everyone was out, and she could drop by if she wanted.

She said she would be there in twenty minutes. He sounded a little pained as he said his goodbye before hanging up, and one thought ran through her mind again and again: _he knew_.

She snatched the keys to her BMW and her purse from her desk, checking her hair in the mirror one last time. When she returned, she'd be a different person.

--

She was at his door too fast, knocking swiftly in a haze of perfume and nice clothes and fake smiles.

He answered before she had time to become impatient, a feat that she performed in a matter of seconds. He looked thoughtful as he politely told her to come in. He kissed her on the cheek and smiled, though it looked almost forced, and it struck her sharply because he was genuinely optimistic and he never wore a phony smile.

She led him to his living room, though she remained standing. He stood across from her, his face resigned and guarded. "I'm going to get straight to the point," she said carefully, reaching for his hand. "But I'm going to open with a song." She sang, _I never believed in what I couldn't see, I never opened my heart to all the possibilities_.

Zeke looked wary and tired, and he shook his head. "Sharpay, if you—"

"No," she interrupted, with a gentleness she hadn't acquired until after she'd started dating him, "let me finish. I have to say this."

She said he brought out a side of her she never even knew she had, and she wanted to thank him for that. He'd given her too much, with his authentic kindness and delicious cookies and sanguine personality, and she hadn't given him anything. He was truly one of the sweetest, kindest, most dedicated (now she actually knew what that word really meant; it didn't mean cheating people out of their roles in the school musicale so that you could get the part) guy she'd ever had the fortune of meeting in her life, and she was so, so glad that he was who he was.

They were sweet, nice words that most people would never even dream of hearing from Sharpay Evans, but Zeke could tell with every fiber in his being that she meant them. His face softened, and he admitted that it wasn't what he had expected to hear from her, but he grateful that she had said it. It had been in her from the beginning, he told her. She just needed someone to help bring it out.

And she gazed straight into his eyes, shaking her head and whispering that he shouldn't say that, he shouldn't let her take credit for what he did, that he was too good of a guy to stay with some ice princess like her. He belonged with someone who could give him what he needed, she wasn't that girl... she could never be that girl.

He insisted that he didn't want anyone else, he wanted _her_, confident drama queen demeanor and all, and he could never hope to be with someone else if he had her.

She shook her head again; they may not have lost that spark yet but they would lose it some day, and she wanted it to be over before that time came. It wasn't going to work (there was that stupid phrase again), and there was no point in fixing something that would just fall apart again in the end.

"We're finished, I'm sorry," she stated flatly, and it felt like a knife piercing through her heart. (She _really_ hated this, there it went _again_, _cliché, cliché, cliché_.)

Zeke began to say something, but she cut him off; she wanted to get this done so that it wouldn't be any harder.

"I made something for you," she murmured. "I know it doesn't make sense, because I'm breaking up with you and all, but still—"

She pulled a small pink container out of her bag and handed it to him, her face impassive. He took it uncertainly, before taking the lid off.

"A cookie for your troubles," Sharpay told him. "I figured that you were always making me cookies, so I should make you one... for a lot of reasons. But especially for changing me. It doesn't make sense," she repeated.

She broke off abruptly, and then a tear rolled down her cheek. She wanted to thank him, she sobbed, but she didn't know how. She'd never really felt like she owed anyone anything, she explained through her tears.

Zeke took her in his arms immediately and whispered comforting nothings into her ear. He told her, "You're welcome." He told her that the gesture meant more than a million words. He told her that it wasn't any trouble at all. He told he would remember.

She would, too.

* * *

_Author's Notes_. 

SURPRISE! After "Stupid", I never thought that I'd write Zekepay ever again. Not that this is much of a treat. Yeah, the writing's pretty bad in this one, I apologize. I just had about forty minutes to write, so I wanted to get this down quickly before I return to my homework and the huge pile of HSM fic that I have started but neglected to finish. Shame on me. I've only written Zekepay once before, and that one was rather angst-driven as well, since I'm not a Zekepay fan. (It's called "Stupid"; please go read it if you're interested.) I can't really picture Zeke/Sharpay lasting, so that's probably why the only Zekepay fic I write are either one-sided or feature their dramatic breakup. Also, Sharpay's VERY OOC in this, and so I must apologize for that too. I just wanted to write something bittersweet about them, where Sharpay changed because of him. Cheesy, I know. Oh, oh, oh. That cheesy love song that Sharpay was singing to herself was indeed "Start of Something New" (please remember that Gabriella and Troy sung it as karaoke at the ski lodge, meaning that it was supposedly a 'real' song), and the lines that she sang to Zeke are also from "Start of Something New". (Though if you didn't realize that, you must not be much of an HSM fan! D) Yeah. Well. This fic was almost as incoherent as this author's note. Mm. One last thing. If, for some reason, you are interested in my stories-in-progress, go on and check out my profile! I posted some work-in-progress stuff there.

Review, lovelies!


End file.
